The "one last round" gambit
It was 50 glorious degrees today in central Illinois, and I decided to head out to my home course to sneak in nine holes – likely my last chance this season.
There is an inherent gamble in playing “one last round,” though. If you play well, you are infused with confidence and good thoughts all winter, content with your skill and quietly eager to get back out come spring.
If you play poorly, all is lost. Kiss your winter good-bye. You doubt your swing so much that you begin to wonder if you’ll ever hit a solid shot again. You simmer and stew in your failure, and all you want to do is practice. This burning, bitter pain is intensified by the knowledge that you cannot practice for months. (There are no indoor facilities near where I live.)
Sadly, I found myself in the latter circumstance today. Nothing felt right. I shanked more balls today than in the past five years combined. I even chipped the leading edge of the crown of my favorite driver – oh, the shame of the Idiot Mark!
Sigh…. I should have stayed home and done some more yard work, like my wife asked me to do. Serves me right…
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I've been living in warm climates lately, and I still can't get used to the golf season. Technically, it's "year round", but the summers are painstakingly hot, and in the winter, it's not snowing, but the temps are all over the place, you get frost, dormant grass (so there is basically no rough for five months) and the occasional winter cold front where it's basically low 40s, which is hardly pleasant. So in reality, it's really golf season->cold golf season -> golf season -> ridiculously hot golf season. I can't get in a rhythm. I'd prefer the April-November northern season, because at least you can get in a groove.
I didn't say I did well but a bad day of golf is most certainly better than any day spent at work!
Eat your heart out Barry! (No, seriously, he's going out on Friday...)